


Conception Weekend

by SophieHatter



Series: Little Star [3]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst and More Angst, Angst and Porn, Bathing/Washing, Conception, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friendship/Love, Just Friends, Platonic Sex, Showers, Sperm Donor, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieHatter/pseuds/SophieHatter
Summary: Turning 35, Sam Carter has an epiphany. She doesn’t need a partner to have a child, she just needs a donor. Fortunately, she knows just the guy - the smart, capable, funny and caring Jack O’Neill. They’ve been ‘just friends’ since they met 15 years ago.Jack’s happy to do the favour and he even offers an opportunity for a natural conception. One weekend in September, he flies in to spend three days with her in bed, making a baby, multiple times, just in case.





	1. Chapter 1

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/33259455@N03/45947369914/in/photostream/)

“So what do you need me to do?”

“Come and,” she giggled, feeling a little heady about this topic, “Spend the weekend at my place?”

“The whole weekend?” Jack asked. Sam figured what he was getting at.

“More chances for things to take. I mean, if you can’t spare the time ...”

“Sam,” he cut her off, a huskiness to his voice that she couldn’t remember hearing, before. “You mean that I get to spend a whole weekend with you? Naked? Sign me up.”

“Ok,” Sam breathed a sigh of relief. “I mean, we don’t have to be naked the entire weekend. We could hang out and do other things, like we usually do.”

“Whatever works for you. This is your show. When?” Jack asked.

“How much of the technicalities do you want to hear about?”

“Tell me so I can pretend to listen. Unless you don’t want the full husband experience and you just want me for my body.”

“Jack!” Sam laughed, “If it weren’t you, I wouldn’t be comfortable with doing this so ... directly.”

“I know,” his voice slipped into reassurance. “And can I just point out that wanting me for my body still does it for me. I don’t think I’ll have any problems completing my mission objectives. You trust me, Sam, and you want a child from me. Goddamn if that just isn’t mind blowing.”

“Thank you. For doing this for me.”

“I’m glad you talked me into it. So when do we make this baby of yours?”

“Ok, so I’ve been tracking my cycle for nearly a year and it’s still nice and regular, not always the case for a woman of my age ...” Sam slipped into professor mode, laying out all the facts and checking he understood the details. She gave him three sets of dates, roughly one weekend a month for the next three months. “If those don’t work, I can project out further.”

“Unless I get stuck somewhere, I can’t imagine that one of those weekends wouldn’t work. Should I ... book another one further out?”

“No, no,” Sam rushed to say and then realised that might be misinterpreted. “No, let’s just wait and see. I don’t want you wasting your leave.”

“It wouldn’t be wasting it, Sam. We could just catchup.”

Her smile was clear in her tone of voice. “You’re always welcome to visit. Which reminds me, do you want me to send you the money ahead or reimburse you for your airfare?”

“Sam,” he growled, although there was no menace in it. “We talked about this.”

“Yes, we did. You know how much money you’re saving me? At least twenty thousand. And the physical toll of all the drugs and procedures. The least I can do is pay for your airfare.”

“No,” Jack told her, firmly. “This isn’t a service, it’s a gift. If it weren’t you, I wouldn’t be comfortable with doing this,” he echoed her words.

“I know, I just ...”

“You hate relying on others.”

Sam sighed, he knew her too well. “If it weren’t you, I’d rather go anonymous.”

“You can say no at anytime. Right up to the sperm donation bit.”

“And so can you,” Sam returned. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jack raised his hand to her doorbell. He had no idea why he was hesitating, Sam had probably heard the taxi pull up. This was just, different, from how they usually met. Not that he hadn’t stayed in her house, before. But it had never been with the expectation that they were going to be having sex, multiple times.

Willing himself to push the button, Jack let the doorbell ring. He heard - heels? - approaching on the hard floor of her entry way and then the door opened and Sam stood before him.

“Holy sh-,” he bit off the rest of the curse, and forcefully dragged his eyes back up to Sam’s face, giving himself a second chance to take in the strappy heels, the form fitting silver dress, the way her blue eyes were almost grey. “I am woefully underdressed,” he apologised, “Are we going out?”

“No,” Sam grinned, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I cooked. And you look just fine, Jack O’Neill.” She gave him the same head to toe and Jack was thankful he’d changed into civvies before boarding the commercial flight: black slacks and a charcoal shirt. 

Meeting his eyes again, she smiled and turned and Jack felt blood rushing to all the wrong places. Well, maybe the right places, given her intent for the weekend. He always thought of her as sweet little Sam. He was beginning to think it was a defence mechanism his brain had put in place to avoid having the kinds of thoughts he was thinking as he watched her walk away.

“Come in,” she called as she reached the end of her entry hallway. “You are bumfuzzled, Airman,” Sam laughed and sweet little Sam was back, all mixed in with this new sexy woman Sam. “C’mon, food. They never feed you right on the plane.”

Jack followed her inside and shut the door, dropping his bag in the hallway, avoiding the question of where he should expect to sleep, for now. He followed his nose to the kitchen, where Sam was dishing up something spicy and creamy over rice.

“Smells amazing,” he complimented sincerely.

“I thought I would treat you with some home cooked food. Beer? Wine?”

“Wine. And some water, thanks.” Taking the edge off would be fine, but he wanted to keep his head clear.

“Already on it,” Sam agreed and Jack took in the table, set for two, water and glasses waiting.

“No candles?” Jack teased.

Sam turned towards him and gestured at what she was wearing, “You think candles would do a better job than this?”

Coughing, Jack hoped that would explain the sudden blush on his face. “Geez, Sam,” he choked out. “If you kill me before dinner this weekend is going to go a lot differently to what you have planned.”

Her laugh was glorious and Jack felt a little squeeze in his chest that he would only get to spend the weekend with this Sam.

Sam handed him the two glasses of white, corking the bottle and returning it to the fridge. Picking up the plates, she elbowed him on her way past. “Let’s eat.”

With half of Sam hidden behind the table, Jack found it a little easier to go through their usual catching up routine. Work, her research, the shows they loved to watch, places he’d been and could admit to and a touch of Air Force gossip.

When Sam got up to clear the table, Jack was brought back with a jolt to why he was here this particular weekend. He picked up their empty glasses and followed her into the kitchen, hovering at the entrance.

Sam was rinsing plates off. Without looking up, she said, “It’s a little weird, isn’t it.”

Tentatively, Jack covered the few steps between them, placing the glasses down. “It is.” He could’ve pretended that he didn’t know what she was talking about. “I’m happy to let you lead.”

Opening the dishwasher, she began stacking it. “I hadn’t particularly imagined how we might start. Although I thought the outfit and the dinner might help.”

“It does,” Jack agreed, “You look stunning and, were you anyone else, I’d be making a pass at you.”

“Yeah, this is weird,” she repeated, closing the dishwasher again and closing in on Jack. “I think, though, that we’re both familiar with the mechanics. Maybe we should just start at the beginning?”

“The beginning being?” Jack asked, feeling a surge of anticipation.

Sam reached for his hand, winding her fingers between his. “Touch,” she suggested. “Unless you like to start some other way?”

“Nope. Touch is good.” Jack brushed his knuckles across Sam’s cheek, exchanging a smile before sliding his fingers into her hair. “What’s next?” He wondered as he stroked at her scalp.

“Kissing?” She wondered, placing her free hand on Jack’s hip and leaning in, appreciating the added height from her heels.

“That could still be considered touch,” Jack noted, brushing his nose against hers.

“Depends,” Sam responded, meeting his lips, letting the warmth flow between them, her thumb caressing the fabric covering his hip. Parting her lips, she flicked against his with her tongue and Jack opened to her. He was still holding back, trying to negotiate the transition from platonic company to intimacy.

Sam stepped closer, placing one of her feet between Jack’s, leaning into him, the hand on his hip holding him against her. She felt the surge of arousal run through him, banishing his reserve, as he tightened the press of his mouth on hers with the fingers entwined in her hair.

Exploring, tasting, they moved lips and tongue together until the need for air forced them apart. Jack’s fingers rubbed at her scalp and Sam moaned, tilting back into his hand.

“More than touching,” Jack agreed, kissing the skin of her neck, his lips finding their way to the crease below her jaw. He sucked slowly on her flesh, gentle and careful, eliciting a purr that he felt as well as heard. Dragging his nose over her jaw until he could nuzzle Sam’s hair, he kissed softly at her temple.

“Bedroom?” He suggested softly, the huskiness in his voice making her stomach lurch.

Closing her eyes, Sam had one last thing that she needed to say. “Just remember, stop, or no. Any time. Ok?”

Jack cradled her face and waited until she looked at him. “Same,” he agreed, holding her eyes. “I want you, Sam. Take me to bed.”

“Come,” she urged him, pulling on their combined hands.


	3. Chapter 3

The bed was already turned down and Jack smelled clean sheets. Water was on both nightstands and a small bottle of what was probably lube. Even a few foil packets that might be condoms. It was all so Sam, planned down to the last detail.

“Jack,” she asked softly, pulling the hair away from the back of her neck.

His attention shifted to examine her back and the soft, silver garment and he noticed the zipper and realised what Sam was asking. In two steps, his hands were on her again and he felt his pulse increase. Jack moved his finger tips over the skin at the nape of her neck, soft and velvety. Finding the pull, he slowly dragged it downwards, revealing more skin and the back of her soft grey bra.

Jack pushed one side of the dress’ back away and laid a soft kiss on Sam’s spine. With great care, his fingers led the way downwards and his lips followed, brushing lightly over Sam’s skin, eliciting a shiver that became a sigh. When his fingers rested at the bottom of the zipper’s reach in the small of her back, Jack retraced the path of his lips, licking between kisses and exhalations of his warm breath. Sam shivered again and he clasped her arms just above the elbows, smoothing her skin, quieting her goosebumps.

Arriving back where he had started, Jack brushed the fabric from her shoulders and, with a shimmy, Sam let it hit the floor. Stepping out of the silver puddle, Sam left her shoes and the fabric behind and turned to face Jack, wearing only her underwear and bra.

Jack’s eyes wandered over her creamy skin, taking in her curves, lingering over her soft and secret places. When he found himself licking his lips, he froze, guiltily meeting Sam’s eyes.

With two paces, she covered the space between them and reached for his belt, unbuckling. “You can look,” Sam told him, voice warm with arousal. “We can’t get around all weekend with the lights off.” Popping the button on his pants, she tugged his shirt free and slid her hands across the skin of his belly and hips. Bunching up his shirt as she ran her hands upwards, Sam dipped her head and laid kisses in a line from his navel, up his sternum and, after a brief pause and murmured ‘off’ to Jack to remove his shirt, nipped at the flesh over his collar bone with her teeth.

Thus sparked, their mutual lust led to hurried movements of hands as zippers and hooks were undone, fabric pushed over hips, a moment of hilarity was shared as Jack tried to toe off his socks, and then they were naked. Any shyness he might have had quickly dissolved as Sam stood before him, her eyes travelling his flesh as much as Jack’s were travelling hers.

“Goddess,” he whispered, tempted to fall to his knees and worship at the temple between her legs. Overwhelmed with the desire to taste her, Jack crowded Sam against the bed and then had a moment of doubt. Was it going too far if any of his actions weren’t directly related to the conception he was here for?

“Can I taste you?” Jack asked, brushing his hand against her curls, pressing a single knuckle into her, parting her lips.

“Please,” Sam moaned and she held his eyes as he kneeled before her, twisting his finger until it was coated in her wetness.

He traced the rim of her entrance as he lifted her leg, pushing her knee up on to the mattress so that she was balanced on the edge. Holding her gaze until the last possible moment, he spread her lips with his fingers and slowly licked her centre, running his tongue around her entrance and working his way over her until she moaned. The hand holding her thigh atop the mattress slid along the skin of her inner thigh and grasped her knee as he sucked her clit between his lips.

The taste and smell of her filled his senses and he hoped to remember burying his face in her wetness until the end of his days. A groan that was almost a grunt escaped Sam and her hand brushed over his hair, coming to rest flat against her her stomach, fingers tensing and untensing. As Jack sucked, he slowly entered her with one finger and was rewarded as her muscles clenched and her thigh twitched.

“Don’t stop,” Sam breathed, words tight, her fingers digging into the flesh of her belly. In acknowledgement, he added a second finger to the first, slowly stroking her, keeping the pressure of his mouth on her clit steady. When her thigh trembled under his hand, he stroked faster, curling his fingers as they dragged over her flesh. As her muscles grabbed at his fingers, she cried out above him and then quivered and pushed into his hand. Keeping up the stimulation as best he could, Jack tried to read her orgasm, drawing out her pleasure until it became too much.

“Jack,” she warned him, a split second before he broke away, stilling his fingers inside her and nuzzling a wet trail down her thigh. With a kiss on the inside of her knee, he rocked back, sliding his fingers from her. Sam captured his wrist and brought the hand to her mouth, forcing him to rise up on his knees. Turning his palm towards her, she lay the flat of her tongue in the centre of his palm and licked along his fingers until she could suck them into her mouth.

The sight, the smell, the touch of her on him, over him, caused his erection to jerk. “Fuck,” Jack swore, as she cleaned his fingers and hand. The visual banished the sweet little Sam from his mind completely, replacing her with the gloriously sexy woman resting above him.

Sam looked to him and smiled at his open mouthed expression, cupping Jack’s chin and drawing him up to his feet with her touch, guiding his mouth to hers. Licking first over his lips, she plunged her tongue into his mouth and stroked him with it, her taste an echo of that already in his senses. With the hand on his chin and her mouth to his, Sam slid slowly backwards on to the bed drawing Jack with her until he was between her legs on the mattress.

Finding his cock and grasping it, Jack leaned into her until he felt her wet heat with its tip. Sam released his mouth and whispered ‘yes’ in his ear and then Jack found himself sliding inside her, pushing into her slick, tight depths until he could go no further.

Jack held himself there until his arms began to shake with the strain and then he backed out slowly before pushing into her again. Sam’s hands came around his shoulders, digging into his back as she embraced his ass with her legs. As Sam rocked into him, Jack increased the speed of his strokes until she emitted a satisfying grunt each time their hips met.

“Close, close,” he panted as the precipice of his orgasm approached.

“Come for me, Jack. Fill me, come hard,” Sam’s words urging him on until he planted himself in her depths and quivered with the intensity of his release.

Jack came to with Sam’s arms around him, one leg still hitched over his thigh and her barely perceptible murmurs lapping at his ears. Dipping his face into her neck, he brushed his lips against her in a ghost of a kiss. Sam responded by thrusting her hips into his, groaning as the movement stimulated her sensitive clit.

His mouth formed a smile against her skin and lifted his lips just clear enough to ask, “Think that did the job?”

The responding laugh was squashed by his weight on her chest and Sam turned to kiss his hair. “Results inconclusive. I think we’ll have to try the experiment again.”

“In the interests of research,” Jack responded.

“Of course,” Sam agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Sliding down to the bed beside her, Jack kept an arm across Sam’s stomach and pillowed himself on her shoulder. Sam sighed, content, and absently stroked his forearm with her free hand as she turned to check the bedside clock.

Turning back to Jack, she said, “Thank you.”

“I’m happy to help. And, happy for you, starting a family.”

Sam huffed derisively, “Gonna be a weird one.”

“There’s plenty of one parent families.” Jack wanted to reassure her. “And yours is a planned one.”

“You’re right. It’s just my dad and brother think it’s a bit strange.”

“They both had partners when they wanted to have kids. Maybe they’d think about it differently if they didn’t.” Jack’s fingers stroked against her side. “I know, Sara wanted, we wanted, kids. Glad that we didn’t, given how things worked out. But she has kids now ...” he trailed off, not quite sure of the point he wanted to make.

“Has there been anyone else that you wanted to have a family with?” They were close, but kids and family and his life before they met were things they rarely discussed.

Jack thought about it before answering. “No. Not exactly. The idea of a family has, was, a part of me for a long time. I think when I hit forty and realised that I was married to the Air Force I put the idea behind me.” He laid his lips against her shoulder in a brief kiss. “My life isn’t one that is good for the other people in it.”

“You can’t go off on mystery tours forever. What about then?” Sam’s fingers were wandering over his skin, feeling the many healed scars on his back.

“I can be Uncle Jack,” he murmured, fingers drawing circles over Sam’s belly. “Drop in, get them all riled up and then take off.”

Sam laughed, her belly bouncing under his hand. “Oh yeah, they’re going to love Uncle Jack.”

“They? More than one?” Jack wondered.

“Maybe,” Sam mused. “Or maybe I’ll learn my lesson and stick to just one.”

“One is probably plenty to keep you busy,” Jack agreed. “But, then, you like challenges, so ...”

“Are you saying I bite off more than I can chew, O’Neill?”

Jack brushed his hand over her skin, eyes drawn to the nipple in front of him, standing firm, again. “I’m saying that challenges thrill you,” his fingers wandering a trail that encircled her breast.

Breathing in deeply at his touch, Sam’s eyes were drawn to the same breast. “You’re a challenge,” she observed.

“And I thrill you?” He wondered, flicking at her nipple and smiling at the resulting gasp.

“Yes,” she hissed, her body tensing. “Especially when you,” she was interrupted by her own moan as he licked and then sucked her nipple into his mouth. “Mmm. When you do that,” She panted as his fingers pinched her other nipple, his mouth tight around the first.

Jack sucked and nibbled and teased until her hands were clawing the sheets and she was writhing with need. When Sam was panting and begging him for more, he nuzzled and kissed a path to her neck, moving lips over her skin, light, his breath hot and moist.

“God, you tease,” she accused Jack, which made him chuckle, lips tickling her already sensitive skin. “I didn’t realise you were so mean.”

He licked her skin, a long stroke from collarbone to ear and her body twisted under his. When Sam reached to touch the lips between her legs, he caught her hand and trapped it against the mattress with his own. “The noises you make,” Jack’s voice was rich with lust and desire, “So much to discover.

Leaning over her, his body not touching hers but so close she could feel his radiating heat, he put his mouth to her wrist, kissing, nipping at the skin, doing exactly as promised and learning how to play her body.

Turning her head as something brushed the skin of her hip, Sam saw that it was his erection. With a soft touch, she stroked her fingertips along its underside and Jack gasped into her skin. “I’m not the only one who makes interesting noises,” Sam observed.

Jack swung his hips so that the tip of his cock rubbed over her skin. Taking it as an invitation, she reached past the base of his shaft and ran her fingers over his sac, tracing the path between his testicles. The pleased sound he made into her inner elbow made the hairs on her arms rise up. She continued her exploration, cupping, squeezing, pulling gently on first one, then the other.

When his nose made it to her shoulder, Jack buffeted her underarm with his nose and sighed. “You smell so good everywhere. I could eat you.”

“You already did,” she murmured, caressing the skin behind his balls with a firm finger. A surprised grunt came from Jack as she did it and she brought her fingers to her mouth, getting them wet, before returning to circle and stroke and press into his skin.

Grunting again, Jack arched his back, pressing in to her touch.

“You like it there, huh,” Sam murmured, “Maybe you’d like a little more?” Her fingers slid back, passing over his pucker.

His sharp inhale told Sam that she had guessed right. She pressed her finger against him and Jack moaned, burying his forehead in the curve of her neck. “Later,” he breathed out. “I want to, oh god. This, for you,” he choked out.

Sam gently dragged her fingers away, caressing his skin and taking his erection in the palm of her hand. “Is this what you want to give me?”

Pressing into her hand, Jack dragged in air. “For you,” he affirmed, “Yes. Let me,” and he thrust into her hand, telling her without words what he wanted.

“Like this?” Sam asked, stroking in response to the movement of his hips, “Or should I ride you?”

“Will that work?” He swallowed, his precum leaking into her hand as she ran over his head.

“As good as anything else,” Sam confirmed, letting him go. “On your back, Jack.”

Without another word, Jack rolled on to his back, his eyes fixed on her as she sat up, turned until she was kneeling and then straddled his thighs. Grasping his base, Sam licked at his head, sucking him between her lips until he called her name in warning. Rising up again, Sam smiled at him, her eyes heavy and somewhat predatory, a look he didn’t know.

“I’ll be back for that, later,” she promised him, moving until she was above him and began to slide slowly down his shaft. Jack’s eyes were fixed between them, watching her envelop him.

Fixated, Jack’s tongue brushed over his bottom lip. “Samantha,” he exhaled as she fully encased him, “So perfect.”

More in control than he was, Sam refrained from replying that she felt like she was made to fit him and instead squeezed him with her inner muscles. Jack’s response was small, but strangled, just escaping his lips. “Good, isn’t it?” She asked rhetorically, beginning to rise and fall.

Jack tried to keep his eyes on her, but the sight of her over him was bringing him to the edge faster than her. He closed his eyes, bringing his hands to rest on her thighs so he could better feel her rhythm, beginning to meet her downward stroke with an upwards one of his own.

The balance of Sam’s weight shifted, and Jack opened his eyes to see her cupping her breasts, working her nipples between thumb and forefinger. At the sight of his eyes on her hands, Sam grinned. “Help me,” she urged, bending closer over his chest. Taking a breast in his mouth, Jack sucked her nipple as she reached between them to find her clit.

The sight of her rubbing herself made Jack groan and his hips surge. Sam cried out at the unexpected increase in the depth of his penetration and her head tipped back, her throat surging with the guttural grunts their movements elicited.

“Jack, I need you,” she cried urgently.

“Right here,” he told her, releasing her nipple, hands moving back to her thighs, supporting her, fingers digging in to her skin. “Ride me hard.”

“Ungh,” She grunted as a shudder interrupted her rhythm and then Sam stiffened and cried out.

“That’s it, come beautiful star, come and then I’m going to, for you,” and Jack stilled and sighed as he found his own release.

Hands fumbled, each of them reaching for the other and Jack guided Sam down to rest on him, petting her hair. “For you,” he murmured, not fully aware of what his mouth was saying. “Yours.”


	5. Chapter 5

In the quiet and dark, Jack wondered what the hell he was doing here. He was wrapped around Sam, the steady rise and fall of her chest under his hand told him that she was sleeping. Alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t hide from the fact that he wanted more than two nights with her. That he wanted to lay here, with her in his arms, and never go back to Delaware or Germany or Osaka or wherever it was they would send him next.

He was tired, no, he was weary. Usually, he could ignore the lack of things in his life that most humans considered essential. But here was the - literal - naked truth. He was weary and lonely and empty and old and Sam was everything that he wasn’t.

She was full of life and enthusiasm and had energy to spare. When they met, or talked, or emailed, he relished that, soaked it up. It came out in everything she did. She had more than enough to share and he let it flow into him whenever he could get it.

Her work didn’t require her to be a relationship automaton. She could connect with people, be generous, be loving. At this very moment, she was creating a family, willing one in to existence with her mind and her heart. And she invited him in to that space and let him stay, whenever he could. There were even times with her that he could forget that he was one of the American government’s blades in the dark: a killer. A good one. One of the best.

There was no doubt she loved him, just like she loved many of the people in her circle of friends. Funny and generous, clever and compassionate, she gave out more than any of them ever deserved, holding on to them with long, unbreakable threads.

Maybe. Maybe if he’d been younger when they met, had been one of her classmates. Or a Lieutenant or a Captain, posted with her on her first rotation. Maybe then he’d have courted and married her instead of Sara. Maybe Sam would have accepted him, accepted what he did, been able to cope with the not knowing and the secrets and the lies.

Maybe.

He was right, this had been a terrible idea. He should have stuck with no. He should have known that he couldn’t keep up the facade. And now he couldn’t hide it and it would make her uncomfortable and she’d shut him out, just when he’d been able to step inside, if only for a visit.

A terrible idea. Oh, Sam. 


	6. Chapter 6

Sam woke in the dark, needing to pee. She spent a sleepy moment luxuriating in the used feeling in her thighs and sex and reached beside her for Jack. The bed was empty, the sheets cool.

She turned on the bedside lamp, letting her eyes adjust and noting the time. 4.30 am, not long until dawn. Pulling herself out of bed, she saw where their clothes still lay from the night before. Jack’s pants were gone, but his shirt was still there. Picking it up with a sense of relief that seemed to come out of nowhere, she put it on and went to use the bathroom. When she was done, Sam went in search of Jack.

One of the low lights was on in the kitchen, illuminating the coffee maker. Sam poured herself a cup from the fresh pot and made her way to the back porch. Jack was there, sitting on the top step, eyes fixed on the slow blush of pre dawn light on the horizon.

Something about the way he sat hunched worried her. Sam approached from behind and slid her fingers into his hair. “Hey,” she greeted him, settling down, also on the top step. “You ok?”

Jack turned to her, his eyes weary and Sam caressed his scalp in response. “I don’t know if I should be here.”

Trying to hide her surprise, Sam’s hand stilled. “I want you here.”

He shrugged and looked back to the horizon, sipping his coffee. Letting her arm fall to his shoulders, Sam held him, resting her cheek against his bare skin. “Please, don’t go,” she asked.

Still wrapped in darkness, Jack didn’t reply.

Sam held him, her hand caressing his skin as they both watched the horizon and sipped coffee. Bit by little bit, she felt him respond, leaning in to her. As the faint glow on the horizon turned to pink, then orange, Sam pressed her lips to his shoulder. “I want you.”

He answered with a long, low sigh, then reached down beside him, setting the empty coffee cup on the next step. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Jack turned towards her, cupping her cheek. “Or what you’ll get.”

“I like to think I have a pretty good idea,” Sam told him, leaning in to meet her lips to his, tongue brushing the seam of his mouth before making full contact.

The touch of Sam’s lips was like a spell, bewitching him, making him desperate for more. They kissed slowly, exploring, brushing against each other, feeling, reaching out, responding.

When Sam put her hand on his thigh, he grew harder with need and slid his free hand under the back of the shirt she was wearing - his shirt. And it was all that she was wearing, held closed with a single button. He worked it free and then he could run his hands over her, caressing her stomach, stroking his way to her breast. Cupping the soft, heavy flesh in his hand, his thumb found her nipple, stroking it and then pressing, then stroking again until she moaned.

It was a terrible idea to make love to her, he knew, but she was there and she was warm and soft and she smelled so good and he ached to have this, just this. A moment where he could show her how much he wanted her, how much he could love her and serve her needs.

Gently, he lay her back on the porch, running his hands over her skin, moving his kisses to her jaw, her ear. Lips pinched at skin, he lapped at her neck with his tongue and when she moaned in pleasure he nearly came. He had it more than bad. For her, he was lost.

It tore at him, the need to slide into her hot, slick depths and his want to taste her, run his mouth and lips over her body, tongue her everywhere, hear her gasp and moan, make her cry out for him.

He pulled back, hands resting over her hips and looked, memorising this image of her. Aroused, half lit by the coming dawn, eyes half lidded, lips parted. With a fingertip, he traced a line to her navel, lazily circled it and then drew his finger down, heard her gasp, felt the muscles of her belly tense in anticipation until he dragged through her curls and parted her lips.

It was his turn to moan, she was so soft, so slick, warm and wet. He ran just that finger along her lips, down until he could brush at the sensitive bridge to her anus and then back up the other side. He slid a finger inside her, then a second, slowly dragging in and out of her, while he reached to unbutton his pants.

“I want you, Sam. May I?” He looked to her face and found her fixed on him.

“Yes. Yes. Please, Jack.”

For a moment it seemed that she wanted him just as badly, if not more, but then the thought was gone, tucked away with so many real feelings. Emotions too costly for him to have. His hand surprised him, trembling as he guided himself into her and he may have whimpered at the sensation of her lips enveloping his desperate need.

Or maybe Sam made that noise. Or it might have been them both. All he knew was that he had to hold himself very still inside her for those first few moments or risk losing all his control.

When the sensations eased a little, Jack opened his eyes again and lowered himself slowly down over Sam, sliding a hand under her head, protecting her and curving her mouth to meet his. He stroked her with slow, long movements, as the sensations of her mouth and her sex flowed together, dragging him into her sweet oblivion.

They continued on, together, melded in body, murmuring to each other, guiding with soft touches until Sam gasped beneath him and he pressed his forehead to hers. “Come, my star, come.” With an arch of her back, Sam was trembling beneath him, around him, and Jack closed his eyes as she dragged his seed from him and he gave it blissfully.

As he finished, his limbs shook and he rolled them awkwardly to their sides, arms and legs tangled, unwilling to part.

Senses and wits began to return and Sam brushed her lips over his skin. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered, “Thank you, again.”

“Sam.” _My pleasure, my Sam, my Star_.


	7. Chapter 7

The patio was cold and they soon became uncomfortable. Sam got to her feet and held her hand out to Jack. He let her help him up, but then she wouldn’t relinquish his hand.

“C’mon,” she urged him and led him inside and down the hall. He hesitated at the door to her bedroom and she turned to him. Sam raised herself to his lips and kissed him so gently that he let her guide him again, into her bathroom. There, she pulled open the door to the large shower and told him to sit on the stool that was in the centre of the floor.

“Unusual,” Jack couldn’t help commenting.

Sam reached for the shower head and turned it to a soft flow setting, running the warm water over his shoulders and back, then turning to let it cascade over his chest and down his legs.

“I got used to having a stool around the bath that year I spent in Japan. Very civilised bathers, the Japanese. I’d love to have an ofuro, someday.” Sam pressed against his back and guided his head to rest between her breasts. Carefully, she used the hand spray to wet Jack’s hair and face, wiping the water from around his eyes.

“An ofuro?” Jack wondered, as she turned off the water.

“You’ve been to Japan, right?” When he nodded, she reached for the shower gel and squirted a generous amount in to her hands. “Ever go to a traditional bath?”

“Once. I went with the guys to see what it was like.”

Sam began running her soapy hands over his neck and shoulders, spreading the lather and then working her fingers and hands into his muscles. When Jack groaned, she smiled gently and continued. “So, the Japanese are obsessed with bathing and to them, a bath is hot and steamy and deep. So an ofuro is a really deep tub that you can sit in and the water comes up to your neck.” Sam began to work the top of Jack’s arms.

“Sounds good. Like a spa. Oh, there,” Jack turned his shoulder blade into her fingers and she obligingly dug into the knot. “Y’know, if you make me limp, I’ll fall off this stool.”

“I’ve got you,” Sam reassured him and moved on to other areas of his back, getting a folded towel to kneel on as she neared the base of his spine.

With soft sighs and moans, Jack let her work. When she’d finished with his back and hips, he regretted the loss of her touch, but then she moved in front of him and began to massage over his feet and legs.

“Are you getting cold?” She wondered.

“Uh, no. You’re keeping me plenty warm.” He tried not to look at his groin, but she did and chuckled.

“You’re welcome,” she teased.

When she’d finished with one leg, Sam rose, reached out of the shower to turn on the heat lamps, giving Jack a perfect view of her ass. He had a momentary flash of pressing her against the glass, spreading her cheeks and lapping at her behind, seeing if she’d like it when he pushed his tongue into her tight sphincter.

Jack closed his eyes and leant back, out of range of temptation and cursed at himself for being a dark bastard.

He felt her hand rest on his knee as she returned to kneel in front of him and Jack tried to rewind his mind to the state of relaxation he had been in moments before. It was hard to recapture it and he found himself wanting Sam to talk to him again, to take his mind to other places away from his own blackness.

When she finished with his leg and took his hand, placing it palm up on his knee to work it over, he pulled himself together. “This isn’t a Japanese stool.”

“No,” Sam agreed. “I had one at first, but American plumbers put all the fixtures too high, so I got this taller one as a compromise.” Working her thumbs hard into the heel of his hand, Jack groaned. “That’s supposed to be an erogenous zone,” She noted.

“Works for me,” Jack replied huskily, “Though you might have to wait a little while for me to get it up after you turned everything to liquid.”

Sam laughed and worked the same spot again and Jack found himself wishing he were lying down so that he could turn liquid and drift in the pleasurable pain. Then Sam did something to his forearm that released more endorphins and he nearly purred.

There was no more talking after that as Sam did the same to his other arm. With that done, she firmly soaped his chest and belly, then his thighs.

When she rose, he found himself mildly disappointed that there wasn’t more soaping but Sam warned him that the water was coming and Jack found the sluicing liquid comforting. When she knelt again in front of him and nudged his knees wider apart, the tenderness with which she ran her hands over his penis and testicles left him breathless and only a little aroused. Her touch wasn’t about arousal, instead he felt tenderness and affection from her hands.

The water stopped again and he heard another slurp of liquid soap and then her hands were in his hair, rubbing into his scalp, digging into his neck and slowly soothing his temples.

“Dear god,” he muttered under his breath.

Sam leant and kissed the clean skin of Jack’s shoulder. “Got to give you something to come visit me for,” and then she continued.

He couldn’t tell her that she was enough, or the sex was enough or that her cooking was enough. That all she offered was enough to make him go AWOL and never go back.

There was warm water rinsing his hair and then she tipped him gently back against her breasts again and washed the last of the soap from his forehead and temples, brushing over his face. Thumbs running along the line of his chin, she leant over him. “Want me to shave you?”

That, of all things, made his groin twitch, but if he were honest, he wanted sleep, now. “Later.”

“Alright,” she kissed him, upside down, which was both incredibly weird and mind blowingly intimate. When she pulled away, he realised that he’d never been kissed that way before and it gave him a strange feeling to share something only with her.

Sam pulled away and took him by the hand again, drawing him out under the heat lamps and towelling him dry with rough, rousing movements on his torso and limbs and slow intimate brushes between his legs and ass cheeks. Quickly towelling herself, she then got behind him and pushed on his shoulder blades. “Bed, sleep,” Sam commanded.

So he climbed into her bed and curled up into the pillows. Sam pulled the covers up and cupped his body with hers, kissing the back of his neck as she wrapped an arm around his chest. The closeness, the brush of her breath against him, the soft feeling of his muscles and joints all combined and he fell into a dreamless sleep. 


	8. Chapter 8

Jack slipped into sleep and Sam found herself relaxing around him, soothed by his scent and his warmth and the rise and fall of his chest. He had been on edge last night, but she had thought that it was just the same nerves that she’d felt.

His mood this morning, though, had her concerned. Logically, Sam had known that sex might, and probably would, change their relationship. Jack had been her friend for a long time and hurting him had been the very last thing that she wanted out of this.

Long experience had taught her that Jack kept a very tight reign on his external face, probably necessary if he did what she guessed he did. There weren’t many positions in the Air Force that fit his deployment patterns, and all of them were of the top-secret, highly classified variety that used terms like black ops and wet team and low helo. He had pilot training, she knew, and most likely Para Ops to go with it. But that was all the public got to know about Colonel Jack O’Neill.

She got it, she really did. Raised as an Air Force General’s brat who had gone to the Academy and on to serve for four years, she knew about the necessity for top secret classifications. She didn’t ask, she didn’t even dig. Sometimes Jack told her things about where he was or how things had gone and she made guesses, but where or who mattered little to her. No where near as much as Jack himself, did.

More than once Sam had felt that she was his only lifeline, the only one hanging on to him. He had no family left and although he did seem to stay in touch with Sara, it was a very circumspect kind of contact. There had been times, over the past ten years, when Jack had called ‘just to hear a voice’. The memory of each of those calls raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Sometimes he sounded broken, or weary or, worst of all, just lost. The Air Force was all he had and when his work hurt him, he turned to her.

Maybe if she’d been older when they met, rather than a fresh face, just out of the Academy. Maybe if she hadn’t got into that terrible relationship with Jonas where Jack had stepped in and warned him off. If they’d just met, like normal people did, maybe he’d have seen her as a woman instead of a naive, young officer that he needed to protect. Maybe if her father wasn’t a General who scared the pants off every Air Force date, and many of the non Air Force ones, that she’d brought home.

Sam would gladly be his anchor, if Jack let her. But every hint, every conversation, every time he visited she was met with rock hard walls. If she sought a way in, he presented her with a seamless barrier that kept her out. The only times that she saw beyond were those desperate calls, made in the dark hours of the night.

And so, a few years ago, she had turned away and sought out other relationships, tried to find a fulfilling path that led away from Jack. Something of her own. She’d moved to Arizona, she’d bought a house and, now, she wanted a child. To ask Jack for that had been a moment of weakness but she’d had to, just in case he said yes.

Look where that got them. Jack regretting even knowing her and she had to stand and watch him slowly drift away.

Sam pressed her forehead to the back of his neck. She’d take what she could, just for this weekend, and then she’d let him go. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tempered angst, and maybe a little hope?

Jack slowly rose out of sleep, reluctant to open his eyes. Real sheets were under his cheek and he was surrounded by the smell of a home, not a barracks. There was a pleasant warmth against his back, the solid, real presence of another human. A beautiful, naked human.

Thoughts of Sam made his lips curl into a smile. She was a goddess, inside and out. What she’d done for him, so that he could sleep, had given him the best rest in weeks. Sleep was a fractured thing in his line of work. Security for sleep in the field was hard to come by and barracks were noisy places, always people talking or clomping about in military issue boots. Here, though, in Sam’s house, he felt safe. And it was quiet. And then she had both fucked and massaged his body into somnolence. And he had slept.

Carefully, he rolled over and looked at her asleep. She was truly beautiful, even with her mouth slightly open on the pillow. How had he missed seeing for so long that she was a woman, now? She’d been adorable when they first met, and the way Hanson had treated her had brought out every protective instinct he had. It was a while after, a few years, before he had realised that he was attracted to her. It sullied his affection for her, made him feel like he was taking advantage of a young, female subordinate. His conscience couldn’t stand it.

But here she was, mature, accomplished and fiercely independent. He had to accept that there was no imbalance of rank or power, now. He was just a rickety old husk and could offer her nothing. Yet, he was the only person she would let do her this favour. Maybe there was a part of her that was attracted to him, too.

How, though, could he let her get close? The secrecy, the lies, the long, unexplained times away had soured things between him and Sara, almost poisoned them from the start. Could he bear to let Sam in, only to lose her? Could he hurt her like that? A shiver ran down his spine and he was more afraid of that than most things he had faced down in the field.

Jack’s eyes drifted to her belly, wondering if there was already a child growing there. She was so beautiful, and if ... he snapped his eyes back to her face. You can love Sam from afar, but that child, that child would be hers and hers alone. That was the deal, what Sam wanted. She had been clear from the beginning that there would be no claim between him and the child. Except that, one day, it would know Jack had fathered it and could know him, if it chose.

But he could be there for Sam.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains some anal play if that’s not your thing and you want to skip over this one.

The fingers in her hair stroked the shape of her face, tracing her ear, running down her neck and circling on her shoulder. She kept her eyes closed, luxuriating in the just woken feeling, the smell of him, the warmth of his skin and his touch on her body. It had been far, far too long since she had spent the weekend in bed with someone.

“I know you’re awake,” Jack said amusement in his voice.

“If I wake up, you’re going to stop doing that to me.”

“This?” He wondered, running nails down her back to her hip, not hard enough to scratch, but firm enough to make her arch into him.

“That,” She crooned. “Don’t stop.”

Jack kept running his fingers and nails over her, as requested. Kissing the top of her head, he murmured into her hair. “You’re beautiful, Sam.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to try again. Maybe I’m already pregnant and you’re no longer needed.” Her fingers were wandering over his chest, scraping through the salt and pepper hairs, edging their way lower. Sam wasn’t acting like she was done.

His other hand came to her chin, lifting her face as he half rose up to meet her eyes. “I do want to try again. But that’s not why I’m saying that you’re beautiful. You were always pretty cute as a cadet and a young officer. But you’re a woman, now. And you’re more beautiful then ever.” Jack held her eyes until Sam accepted that he was being honest with her and then he kissed her. With his body, he tried to show Sam just how beautiful she was.

Jack rolled her onto her back, half laying over her as he continued kissing, his tongue stroking and probing and leaving her heated and flushed. Sam was aching, but from arousal or over use, she wasn’t sure. Over use was likely, she wasn’t even having regular intercourse with her vibrator.

What Jack was doing felt so good, though, and when he was inside her ... just the memory made her moan and turned her soaking wet. At her moan, he smiled against her mouth and pulled back, fingers stroking her hair again.

“What was that for?” He wondered, amused.

She flushed and watched Jack’s eyes follow the spread of red from her chest and to her shoulders and neck. “I was just remembering how good it feels when you’re inside me.”

“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” Sam said, surprised that he was surprised. Reaching for Jack’s hip, she inched her fingers along the skin to stroke the hairs at his groin, all that she could reach. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you’re good at this?”

Jack shrugged helplessly with his shoulder. “People say things, especially in bed. Doesn’t mean anything. And it’s not like, y’know, I make a habit of,” he waved his hand to encompass their naked bodies, “This. Don’t get many folks signing up for a night with an old man like ... me.”

Sam sat up, upsetting his position and Jack rolled half back on his side. “Captain Crunch on a biscuit, O’Neill. You can’t be serious?” She actually felt hurt on his behalf. “Look at you! There ain’t a woman I know who wouldn’t be happy to take ‘an old man like you’ to bed. I know some guys who’d sign up, too,” she added, a wicked look in her eye.

“Guys?” He responded with a grin, “Can I get their numbers?”

Laughing, Sam leaned over and kissed him, long and heated. Sitting back up, she reached for his cock and ran her fingers lightly over it. “You’re mine until Monday, and then you can have those numbers, if you want.”

“I’ll get them for next time I come to visit,” and he moved against her fingers, hardening further. When Sam turned to the nightstand and grabbed the lube, Jack tilted his head. “Everything ok?”

“All going to be just fine if you move up a little.” Jack did so, dragging more pillows over, too. Sam stole a pillow back, and kneeled between his legs. “Ass, up,” She prompted and settled a pillow under his tailbone. Looking down at him, she gave a nod of satisfaction and settled into hero’s pose making Jack spread his legs wider.

When Sam leaned forward and kissed first one hip and then the other, his pelvis jerked in sympathy with her flexibility. “Shit, how can you -”

“Yoga,” Sam answered smugly. “Good for the mind and the body.” With the flat of her tongue, she swept inward from one hip, following the crease that lead to his groin, around the base of his penis and up to his other hip. “I can do the splits, too.”

“No way, show me,” Jack cajoled her.

“Later,” Sam answered, firm hands on his thighs, holding him in place. “I’m doing something, here.” She tried to decide if his disappointed sigh was insulting or complimentary. When she took one of his testicles between her lips and he groaned, she concluded that it didn’t matter.

Taking her time to lick and suck her way over and under his sac, Sam explored Jack’s reactions, getting him worked up and gasping before sitting back on her heels, drawing circles on his inner thighs with her thumbs. She watched the rise and fall of his chest slow, admiring the shape of him from this angle. Past his groin, his stomach and chest were well shaped, not Men’s Health hard and tense, but a more touchable strength encased in velvet.

Jack caught her looking him over and raised an eyebrow. “Need anything?”

He was half teasing, but she held her hand out, anyway. “Water, please?” Jack passed it to her and she drank, put the cap back on and let it roll away from her fingers to rest on her side of the bed. Then she reached for him, grasping his penis at the base and ran her thumb over the vein, caressing, feeling him regain the hardness that had been lost in her short break.

Sam leaned forward again and pressed her lips to the tip, allowing her tongue to snake out and explore his slit. There was already precum there and she lapped at it, gathering it on her tongue, enjoying the sharp taste. She ran her tongue around him, getting a feel for the shape of his glans, seeking sensitive areas and then tonguing them before moving on.

The way Jack was beginning to writhe had her heating up as well and Sam could feel the growing wetness between her legs, accentuated by her movements that occasionally brushed her spread lips against the sheets. Jack was an excellent subject, and his moans and sighs were all the encouragement she needed.

When she took his head in her mouth, Sam was sure she heard him curse under his breath. Finding the right spot to work him with her tongue, she reached for his testicles, resuming the teasing she had used earlier. He jumped in her mouth and Sam hummed her pleasure in return. Working the two in conjunction for a little while, she continued until his hips were lifting from the mattress and supporting pillow. With a kiss of sympathy to his glans, she released him and reached again for the water.

“Saaam,” he gasped, moving his hips in a vain attempt to find something to stimulate himself against.

“I’ll just be a minute,” and she swallowed another mouthful of water, watching him squirm while she pressed her spread lips and rocked into the sheets. When Jack calmed a little, he opened his eyes and caught her bemused expression.

“Damn, that’s mean,” he complained.

Sam smiled knowingly. “Turn about ...” she told him and palmed the bottle of lube, rolling it in her hand to warm it.

Eyeing the motion of her hand, he wondered, “So why aren’t we ... putting me to the intended use?”

Sam sighed a little, losing some of her confidence, “Would you rather? Because we could. I just wanted to ... do something for you.”

“Well, I’m not going to complain.” Any guy who complained about what Sam was up to was a moron. “I just thought that, oh shit,” he muttered, “Y’know. This was a mostly ... functional thing.” There was vague hand waving at body parts, again.

“There you go again, thinking that I am somehow putting up with you.”

“Well,” Jack paused, knowing she thought his answer was wrong. “Well, yes.”

“You should shut up and lie back,” she told him, popping the cap on the lube bottle and catching the liquid in her fingers. Tossing the small bottle to join her water, Sam grasped his cock again, eyes on him as she leaned forward. Chastised, Jack did as she said.

Satisfied, Sam stroked him with one hand and carefully reached between his ass cheeks, spreading the lube between them and over his anus. She felt him flex and tighten and then relax. As she stroked and caressed with both hands, Sam watched him carefully and moved her index finger to tease at his pucker. “This ok?” She asked.

“Yes,” his answer came out hissed. “Do it,” Jack told her.

Sam carefully pushed against him and then he eased and she slid her fingertip inside, spreading the lube around. As he adjusted, Sam pressed deeper until she was as far as she could go. Holding the position, she raised his rigid erection to her mouth and sucked him between her lips.

“Oh god,” Jack cried out. “Wait, wait.”

Sam did, holding still until Jack breathed out and she felt the corresponding tightness in his groin ease. “Ok. Close, Sam.”

Humming her response, she applied suction with her mouth, beginning to slowly stroke in his ass. When Jack gasped and moaned, she eased off a little, beginning again as he relaxed, taking him to the edge and back for as long as she could. Each time, Jack’s moans and pleas became stronger, until the strain made his voice husky and then falter. She decided that was far enough and when he whimpered again, she kept sucking and stroking until he locked his fingers in her hair in warning. She curled her finger inside him, rubbing his prostate and held still as he jerked, strained and then came in her mouth.

Swallowing, she struggled to contain it all, which was her own fault, really. With the last spasm, she drew carefully off his head, raising herself to sitting, swallowing the last of what she could. Then she eased her finger from Jack’s ass and flexed her hand. Cursing her forgetfulness, she brushed her clean hand over his shin and slid backwards off the bed, taking a moment to ease out her cramped joints, before heading the bathroom.

Washing her hands, Sam returned with a warm washcloth and gently handled Jack’s genitals, wiping him clean. He groaned softly and she smiled in response and climbed in beside him, hand over his stomach, chin resting on his shoulder. Pleasantly warm and aroused, she let Jack take his time reassembling and let the strains in her body relax. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Sam’s memory dream in Chapter 19 of the Velveteen Rabbit.


	11. Chapter 11

“Sam,” Jack finally asked, his voice dry and husky.

“Water?” She suggested, sitting up and reaching for the unopened bottle on her side and offering it to him.

Jack pushed himself up and took it from her, sipping slowly. He leaned back into the headboard, rolling the bottle lid in his fingers, sipping a few more times. Then he raised his eyes to her. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Sam hummed smugly and shifted so that she too was resting on the headboard.

“I mean,” Jack searched for the right words, “Not just the head, although it was amazing and I haven’t come so hard in ... forever.”

Sam smiled and laid her hand casually against Jack’s hip, brushing his skin with her knuckles.

“Thank you, for asking me.” His eyes looked down at himself, “And for ... saying what you did.”

Sam tilted her head, taking him in with half a look. “I mean what I say. I don’t just,” she changed her voice to a coquettish mockery, _‘You’re so big, the best I’ve ever had.’_ ” She brushed her hand against him, again. “That’s not me.”

“I know,” he agreed, placing the back of his hand in hers. “I’m sorry for making it seem like I don’t trust you.”

“Ok. Apology accepted.” Sam began to move away but he caught her hand.

“Why did you ask me, for this?”

“For your genetic material?” Sam looked at her hand in his. “Because you’re a good man, Jack. You’re healthy and fit. Intelligent, honourable. I know you, who you are and that’s better, in my mind, than some anonymous person in a donor book.”

“Right. And then, this?” and, yet again there was hand waving and Sam couldn’t help but smile affectionately.

“Sex? Conception? Blow jobs and shower massages? Why did you agree to do it this way, Jack?” She turned the question back on him.

“It seemed a practical solution,” he answered.

Sam nudged him with her knuckles.

“Oh god, you want me to say it?”

She laughed at that, relenting, “Sex is good?”

“Sex is good,” he repeated, relieved.

“Food is good,” Sam suggested. “Hungry?”

“You don’t want me to return the favour?” Jack seemed unsure, tugging her back towards him.

Sam’s brows furrowed as she considered her response. “Aside from the fact that it was I who was returning the favour, I can’t do stuff for you that I enjoy?”

“No, but ...”

She leaned over and kissed him slowly, until he relaxed again. “I like sex. I like sex with you. I am having a good time. Stop worrying so much. Ok?”

His reply was reluctant and Sam knew that he hadn’t fully accepted that she was being honest. “Alright. I could ... eat.”

“Good,” Sam kissed the tip of his nose. “Chinese ok? And I got the new Star Trek movie for you.” Getting out of bed, she pulled on a pair of pyjama shorts and a cami top. Turning back to Jack, she said, “Nap, if you want to, or shower, or, whatever, really. I’m going to order.”

“If you answer the door like that, you’re going to make someone’s day,” Jack called after her.

“Good, then I won’t need to tip.”

Jack chuckled and eased out of bed, looking in his bag for something to wear.

Sam was hanging up when he strolled into the kitchen in boxers and a tee. Jack kissed the back of her shoulder and opened the fridge, taking out a beer. “Want one?” He asked.

“I’ll just grab a soda,” Sam replied, reaching past him for a can. Jack twisted the cap off the beer as Sam nudged him with her hip and turned away. “So do you want to watch a movie?”

Watching her walk away, Jack took his time answering, eyes on her ass the whole time. “You said something about the new Star Trek?” When she turned the corner, he followed her into the lounge, sitting down on the couch as Sam set up the DVD.

“I’ve been waiting for you to visit,” she told Jack, scanning through the menu and hitting play, then Sam turned towards the couch, pausing uncertainly.

Jack patted beside him and then held out his arm. “I like snuggling,” he told her. When she smiled uncertainly before settling down, he added, “I don’t get a lot of soft human contact, you know.”

With a wriggle, Sam tucked herself into his side, her feet going up on the coffee table. “Why have you never said anything about it? We could have friend cuddled before now.”

Pausing for thought, Jack idly circled Sam’s bare shoulder. Maybe there was a chance here to sound her out. “I didn’t think it appropriate when I first knew you. And then, I guess I got into that habit of thinking. And ...”

Sam waited for him, skimming though the copyright warning.

“My work doesn’t give me a lot of friends. Friends - you - are more important to me than ... physical desires.” Jack’s eyes were forward, but he was watching Sam with his peripheral vision.

Finding the beginning of the movie, Sam hit pause and turned into him, pulling up her knees and resting them against his thighs. “I guess I know that, too. Having friendships with students is ... problematic. And I don’t date people I work with. Which limits who, and what, is available.” She straightened, suddenly, “Jack, have I ruined things, for us?”

That was so unexpected, he was flummoxed as to what to say. “You, you haven’t, no. Why can’t we go on being friends?” Heart racing, Jack tried to keep his body relaxed.

“Sex changes things, doesn’t it?”

“Does it have to?” Jack turned to Sam wanting to reassure her. With his hand, he brushed a stray hair from her cheek. “We both know this is just for now. That was what we decided, right?”

“It is,” Sam agreed, confused about what Jack was trying to tell her.

“I’m not stateside that much, and I disappear without warning and get stuck places without you knowing. If it’s all too awkward, after this, then you’ll barely notice, right?”

“Right,” Sam found her mouth agreeing while her mind raced.

He couldn’t stand seeing her confused. Cupping her cheek, he caressed her with his thumb. “It’ll be ok, Sam. This is just for now and next time we’ll still be friends.” When she nodded, silently, he leaned in and kissed her, his head a jumble of everything - emotions, desires, hopes.

Sam let him kiss her, closing her eyes. He didn’t want things to change, that was what he was telling her. For the first time that weekend, she faked enthusiasm for Jack’s touch and kissed him back.

The doorbell rang and they broke apart like teenagers caught necking. Seeing the startled looks on each other’s faces, they laughed and Sam got up to answer the door. When she returned with the food and put the containers on the table, she sat back down next to Jack.

Taking a container and a pair of chopsticks, he asked, “Did you tip?”

“Of course,” Sam replied, opening her container and snapping her chopsticks apart, “He might have been gay.”

“Maybe I should have answered the door, then.”

“Next time we’ll answer it together and put on a show,” Sam teased.

Jack laughed and settled back, takeaway container in hand, happy that the easy banter they usually shared had returned. “Let’s watch this thing.”

“Good, I’ve been waiting for you to visit to see it.”

“You haven’t watched it already? Aww.” Half teasing he kissed her cheek, “We’ll be ok, we’ll always have Star Trek.”

She giggled and hit play and they settled in to eat.


	12. Chapter 12

Sam leant into Jack’s side again, hips and thighs touching as they propped their feet up side by side and ate.

Halfway through his box, Jack nudged her with his elbow, “Wanna swap?”

With a glance in her own, Sam nodded and held her box out to him. They switched and Sam caught a glance of Jack’s mouth and the smear of sauce trailing from the corner. “Here,” She beckoned and when he got close enough, she licked it off and then kissed his lips.

“So glad you didn’t do the mother thing and lick your thumb,” Jack chuckled. So Sam did just that and then swiped the tip of his nose. “Hey!” Jack captured her hand and sucked her thumb into his mouth, giving her a reasonable approximation of good oral sex.

She shivered as he released her digit and Jack smiled at her smugly. “Bastard,” she told him and resumed eating.

When Sam had eaten her fill, she leaned forward and deposited the remains on the coffee table. A few minutes later, Jack did the same, taking a swig of beer. Catching his hand, Sam stole the bottle and sipped, handing it back to him.

Jack shook his head in mock annoyance put the beer back. Then his eyes caught sight of her, “I’m not the only messy eater.”

Looking where Jack was, Sam saw the swipe of sauce that had ended up on the upper slope of her breast. When she went to wipe it away, Jack caught her hand. “Let me.”

Dragging his tongue slowly across her skin, Jack made sure she was thoroughly clean. Then he dragged her top down, tongue working over the skin that he slowly exposed. When Sam’s nipple popped free, Jack wrapped his lips around it, sucking and licking and teasing her with slow bites.

Sam fumbled for the remote and hit pause, dropping the object carelessly and settling her fingers into Jack’s hair. The rasp of his stubble added a whole other element to the sensations she was experiencing. When his fingers pulled her top aside to pinch and play with her other nipple, she moaned. “Feels so good, don’t stop.”

A nip was his response and then he kissed his way to her other breast and repeated his thorough attentions.

Squirming and arching her back, Sam whimpered when he pressed his fingers into her heat, rubbing the fabric of her pyjama bottoms between her lips, roughly moving over her clit. She spread her legs for him and Jack followed the seam all the way to her ass, dragging his nail firmly along the fabric on the return, making minute vibrations that drove right to her core.

Raising his head, Jack kissed her softly, “Bed?”

“Here,” Sam responded and she found the floor with her feet, tugging down her shorts. She bent over Jack and he raised his rear from the couch and she removed his boxers. Then they were touching again, Sam straddling his thighs, Jack running his hands up hers, thumbs rubbing deep at her inner thigh muscles. “Slide forward a bit,” She directed and began running her hand over his erection, stroking him to full hardness.

“Where’s the fire?” Jack teased her as she grasped him and found her entrance with his tip.

Sam slid on to him, groaning as he stretched her tired muscles. She rested there, hands on his shoulders, forehead against his. “Nipples are my weakness.”

Her sultry confession made his hips twitch and Jack smiled, reaching to cup both her breasts, thumbs just brushing the tips of her erect nipples. “Your wish is my command,” he quipped, dipping his head to suck her again.

“Jack, _fuck_ ,” she groaned, her head falling back. Jack brought Sam’s breasts together, licking and sucking both nipples at once.

With a whimper, she rocked against him, “Got to ... have to,” she urged and Jack released her, reaching to cup her again, roughing her nipples with his thumbs.

“C’mon Sam. Show me how much you like it when I suck you,” he took a nipple in his mouth again and she rocked and then started raising herself on him and sliding back down. “And this one,” he crooned as he changed breasts, sucking and then slowly biting down.

Sam began to rise and fall faster, Jack’s stubble rubbing against her breast, her nipple pulling against his teeth as she moved. As she began to grunt each time she came down, Jack released her, cupped both her breasts firmly, pressed his thumbs hard into her nipples and shifted himself forward on the couch. The change in angle made Sam lean into him as she rode, her body weight pressing her breasts harder into his hands.

Whimpering, she tossed her head, grasping Jack’s shoulders and he rotated his thumbs until Sam cried out, her shout echoing off the walls. She shuddered hard and violently over him, Jack moving quickly to put his arms around her in support. As she came down, murmuring incomprehensible things, he kissed her neck and shoulders, pulling her against him as he did so.

“Bright star. So beautiful. So hot. So beautiful.” Jack had to bite back the words that he couldn’t say, the emotion welling up inside him as he held Sam in his arms. “My star,” he whispered into her hair.

It took longer than usual for her to return, but Jack didn’t mind. He relished being able to hold Sam so intimately and tried to commit to memory the look on her face as the ecstasy washed over her. Beautiful, bright star.

Sam began to rock again a while later and Jack pulled back, cupping her face and kissing her slowly. Squeezing her muscles around him and running her nails from his shoulders, down over his nipples, Jack began to regain his hardness.

In silence, except for gasps and pants, they moved together, Jack helping Sam’s rise and fall until he approached the edge. “Sam?”

“Go, go,” she urged him, “I’m good.”

Jack ducked his head, ensnaring one of her nipples and sucked hard, mercilessly pulling her with him as he came. Shivers ran through her, pulsing around him, then he released his hold and moaned slowly as his ejaculate spilled into her.

Panting, they rested foreheads together and then she was kissing him with tiny touches, over mouth and chin. Still breathless, she murmured, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but ...” Sam climbed off him, legs still wobbly, and lay down on her back on the couch, cuddling her knees to her chest.

“What?” Jack looked at Sam and then he remembered the educational lecture on conception that she’d given him. “Baby?” As she nodded, he reached for her ankles and tugged on her legs until they were draped over his lap, her bum on one side, her feet on the other.

As his fingers idly ran over the skin of her shin, he looked at her. “Cold?” When she nodded, he lifted her legs, stood and replaced them on the couch. “Don’t move,” he told her and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned, Jack had a damp, clean, tea towel in one hand and he snagged the Afghan from the armchair as he passed.

With a gesture, Sam lifted her legs again and he resettled, wiping her thighs and labia, then himself. Once done, Jack spread the blanket over her legs and his.

“Thanks,” Sam said. She pulled a throw cushion under her head.

“How long do you need to lie down?” Jack wondered, hand brushing over her ankle.

“Ten, maybe twenty minutes.”

“May as well watch the movie again. Where did the remote end up?”

Sam groped the floor in front of the couch, fingers snagging the black plastic and bringing it up far enough to hit play. Depositing it on her covered stomach, so they could both reach it, she relaxed into the couch with a contented purr.

Putting his feet up on the coffee table again, Jack smiled, an echo of her contentment, and tried to pick up the story, having missed a minute or two licking Sam clean.

 

* * *

 

As the movie came to its end, they were still in the same position. Jack moved occasionally for a sip of beer. Sam was still, except for her hand, stroking the lower curve of her belly while her eyes were on the screen.

Jack had been watching her make the idle movement for the last part of the film, unsure she even noticed that she was doing it. He didn’t want to intrude, but he felt an upwelling of affection and curiosity about the process she had invited him to participate in. He hit mute on the TV and then laid his hand beside Sam’s, on her stomach.

“Think it’s happened, yet?” He asked.

“Hmm?” Sam turned to look at Jack and he reached to brush her hand with his little finger. “Oh, well. Can’t really tell this soon. Especially as I haven’t been pregnant before.”

“What about those test stick things, from the drugstore?”

“Don’t work, not yet. Need to be at least ten days pregnant, better if it’s two weeks.”

“Oh.” Jack pondered whether he could ask why. Baby stuff wasn’t something he’d had the chance to learn, before. Not that much use on a sniper mission inside Iran.

Sam knew him well enough and answered him. “If I’m pregnant, my body will make a hormone that triggers the changes I need to carry the baby. But it takes a while to build up in your blood or your pee, so nearly all the tests need you to have been pregnant for a while to be accurate.”

“Ah. So we, you, won’t know until after I go.”

“No,” she agreed. “And if the pee test is negative, it might be because there’s not enough hormone to measure, yet. Unless I get my period, then that is almost a certain no.”

“Almost?” Jack looked at her, eyebrow raised.

“Bodies are incredibly inexact and unreliable. Can get bleeding and be pregnant, can get no bleeding and not be pregnant. Best way to be sure is when the baby pops out,” she grinned at him, pleased when he gave a short laugh.

“How do women put up with it? All the worrying and calculating and tracking ...” he shook his head in amazement.

“It’s incredibly tedious and annoying, believe me.”

Jack smiled at Sam again and then stroked his fingers over her stomach. “It seems so strange that something so monumental could be happening and you don’t know it.”

“If it is, it’s microscopic right now. A collection of cells dividing and dividing and, hopefully, snuggling down and getting comfy while it waits to be hooked up to the plumbing and room service.”

“You’re cute, you know that?” Jack teased.

“Hang on,” and she grasped his fingers with hers, “I thought I was beautiful and a grown woman, now?”

“You’re all that, Sam,” Jack’s expression was suddenly somber, “And more.”

Sam bit her bottom lip as she watched him and then forced herself to look away. 


	13. Chapter 13

Towelling off, Sam wondered whether it was worth dressing again or if she could get away with crawling into bed naked. Over the past 24 hours, Jack had seen all she had to see. If he came back from the store and found her sleeping naked it probably wouldn’t bother him at all.

With a last rub over her hair, Sam hung up the towel and opened the bathroom door. A moment passed as she listened for Jack, but hearing nothing she slid into bed and closed her eyes. So he’d been right, she could do with a quick nap. He probably wanted some time to himself, anyhow, Sam reflected. Jack wasn’t used to so much close company.

Without thinking, Sam’s hand reached out for the spot where he’d slept. A soft part of her wished Jack was there to take her hand or roll her into his warmth. Another night, she told herself. She was allowed one more night of his company.

Her thoughts wandered on the edge of sleep. Maybe next visit he might sleep in her bed again. Might let her snuggle into his side. Might rub her feet while they watched a movie.

Or not. He could disappear and she’d never know if it was her fault or a mission or some dark night he didn’t survive, didn’t call her because ...

Sam pushed the dark thoughts away and reached for better ones. Her mouth on his, his generous warmth, his arms around her as she slowly surfaced from orgasming in his lap, him still hard inside her, whispering in her hair that she was his star ...

Dreamt that, must have dreamt that ...

 

* * *

 

Fingers climbed their way up her thigh and she twitched in reflex. An amused snort and then warm lips were pressed against the round of her hip before making a damp trail up her spine. When they reached her neck, Jack’s almost too warm body slid into bed behind her, fitting against her from ankles to shoulders. His chest was bare against her back, but he was wearing something soft below the waist, probably track pants.

Sam turned her head as Jack kissed along her jaw and smelled seared meat and sweet tomatoes and the faint sharpness of pan fried peppers lingering in his hair. “Mmmm. You smell so good I could eat you.”

“Dinner will be ready in a little while. I thought you might like to take your time waking up.” Exploring fingers between her breasts promised to assist her with such an arduous task as surfacing from sleep.

Sam closed her eyes again, pressing her body back into his. On the edge of sleep and dreams she could almost think of his presence in her bed as more than a temporary luxury.

“I’m losing my touch if you’re falling back asleep,” Jack murmured into the skin of her shoulder. “I would have thought the promise of sex or my award winning hot dish would be enough to entice you awake.

“Award winning?” Sam asked, eyes still closed. “In which competition was this?”

“A tough one,” Jack protested. “There were many other entries.”

“This wasn’t some sort of base pot luck, was it?”

Jack caressed her breast and then tweaked a nipple, remaining quiet.

“Don’t change the subject. Was there even an award at this pot luck?”

“There wasn’t any left over,” Jack pouted before licking the back of her neck and then blowing on it.

Sam shrieked and tried to wriggle out of his grasp but Jack was ready for her. Before she knew what was happening, she was on her stomach, Jack’s leg between hers, his knee pressing firmly between her thighs. He continued to lick and nip at her shoulders, fingers caressing and tickling at her sides, making her writhe against the pressure of his body.

It was hopeless, Sam knew. If Jack wanted to restrain her, he could easily do so. Even if she had been up to date in her hand to hand training, Jack was her superior in strength and experience. Still, the way he played gave her a dark thrill, making her sex hot and wet where they ground against his fabric covered knee.

Hands cradling her hips, Jack’s lips brushed her ear, “Say my hot dish is award winning.”

“Never!” She declared and then his hands were all over her sides, again, teasing, tickling and pinching at her behind and the sides of her breasts.

Pausing in his torment, Jack rubbed his knee against her, “Say it!”

Forget overpowering her with strength, Jack might just drive her crazy with incited lust. “Make me,” Sam taunted, the words out of her mouth before she could think them through.

“Oh, ho!” Jack crowed, his hands running over Sam’s shoulders and down her arms, twining with her fingers. He shifted his weight, pressing down on her, rubbing his hips against her ass.

If she’d doubted what he had in mind when he came to wake her up, Sam was clear about his interest now.

“Say it, Sam. Award winning ...” his voice was sultry and seductive in her ear.

Biting her lip against a tell tale moan, Sam tested his position, trying to roll them both with her knee. The failed attempt had Jack resettle on either side of her thighs, his erection pressed into the valley between them.

Starting a minute rocking of his hips, Jack chanted in time with his movement, “Say it, say it, say it ...”

“Argh!” Sam declared, amused and inflamed at the same time. “If I say it, will you fuck me like this?”

She could hear the triumph in Jack’s voice as he prompted her, “Award ... winning ...”

“ _Awardwinning_ ,” Sam rushed to say. “Now will you?”

Jack laughed as he ran his hands over her, dragging his body away to strip off his pants and then pushing her legs apart, kneeling between them.

Sam was surprised to hear the waver in his tone as he coaxed her hips up off the bed.

“You’re sure?” Leaning over her, Jack kissed tenderly along her spine, his fingers curving around her hips.

Sam had a momentary urge to laugh at the absurdity of his concern after he’d just pinned her to the bed and tormented her until she acquiesced. Smothering it down, she leaned back into him with her ass. “Jack, I’m sure it will be award winning. I’ll give you a little ribbon and everything.”

The tension eased with his surprised laugh and then Sam felt Jack’s fingers between her lips. Stroking her with two, then three fingers he pushed deep inside her and then drew back with his fingers spread, stretching her.

“I’ll take it slow,” he told her and she felt the press of his cock against her slick folds.

“Don’t,” Sam replied, “I won’t break.”

“Sam.” The moan was wanton and hungry as Jack slid inside her, taking his time to fill her up, despite her urging to the contrary.

They were both quiet, then, finding a rhythm and building up the friction. Sam pushed back into his thrusts until Jack’s fingers dug into her skin and then he was pressed against her back, one hand bracing himself against the mattress, the other wound around her body, gripping her shoulder from underneath.

She couldn’t hold the sounds in, then, grunting each time Jack drove home inside her. Moans followed and then desperate gasps that she wanted to hide, but couldn’t. Sam screamed when his teeth bit down over her shoulder blade and pushed her over the edge.

There was a vague awareness of him thrusting into her hard and whimpering her name as lights popped like fireworks behind her eyelids. Then Jack was falling sideways onto the mattress, taking her with him, his body curled tightly around hers, lips and hands brushing over her skin and repeated so low she almost couldn’t hear: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry ...”

Struggling to surface, Sam tried to twist in his embrace, finally getting her arms around him, her leg over his hip.

“Jack, shush. Stop. It’s ok. I’m ok. Shh.” Sam stroked her hand through his hair, over his shoulder and arm, down his back, holding him until his tormented whispers subsided.

Stroking his cheek, Sam coaxed Jack to meet her eyes. “I’m ok. I asked you go hard. It was _good_. You were _good_.”

“I thought I hurt you,” concern pulled at his eyes and something else, maybe fear. “When you screamed ... I thought I’d hurt you but then I was ... I couldn’t stop ...”

“Jack,” Sam put a snap in his name, something she hadn’t done in a very long time. She watched his eyes widen in surprise, the shock of hearing her command voice stopping his thoughts dead. “That was _good_. _Very_ good. _Award_ _winning_ good.”

A smile curled the corners of Jack’s mouth and Sam began to relax again. “I was a Captain, remember? I can take it. I even like it when things get rough.”

Jack ducked his head, turning into her shoulder and the pillow. Sam gave him time, holding him until he sighed and let some of the tension flow out.

“I forget,” he told her, “That you’re not,” Sam waited for some well meant sexist platitude, but Jack surprised her. “That you’re not easily broken.” Turning back to meet her eyes, his thumb brushed her cheek. “Forgive me for doubting you?”

“Nothing to forgive,” she replied, kissing him lightly.

Sam lingered on his face for a long time, wanting to tell him that his darkness didn’t frighten her, but she couldn’t find a way to phrase it that didn’t feel like a betrayal of his trust. Instead, she caressed his cheek until their hunger drew them out of bed and into the light of the kitchen. 


	14. Chapter 14

_Jack’s warm fingers spread across the curve of her belly, no longer able to fit in the palm of his hand, not while the baby inside her kept insisting on enlarging and renovating the once tiny space of Sam’s uterus. Patiently, he waited, lips pressed into her shoulder and then ..._

_“I can feel her, she’s stretching.” The awe in his voice made Sam’s heart fill with warmth._

_“Told you. Sex definitely wakes it up.”_

_“Her up,” Jack corrected, smoothing his hand over the expanse of her belly, searching for another kick or stretch below the surface._

_“You don’t know it’s a her,” Sam admonished, putting her hand over his and guiding him to where she felt the movement inside her. Gently, she pressed his hand down with hers until ... a wave of motion pushed back against the intrusion._

_Jack gasped and Sam laughed at his reaction. “Does it hurt her? Hurt you?”_

_“No. It’s inside a big cushion of water. We’re just rocking the boat a bit. Sometimes I feel uncomfortable, though, when it wants to lay across rather than up and down.” Guiding his hand again, she mapped the baby out. Starting under her breasts, she guided his hand down, “Head, spine, bottom.” Sam dragged his fingers along the curve where it met her tight curls, then brought his fingers back along the opposite side of her belly. “Legs and somewhere about here,” she pressed his hand into her again, “Feet.”_

_They waited and then both felt the slow rippling of the baby’s response. Hand trembling, Jack stroked her skin, touching her like she was made of glass. “Sam, I don’t think I can ... do ... that, again. What if I go too far and I hurt it?”_

_“You bloody well will do that again. I’ve got you for 48 hours and I’ve been insanely horny for months and you can’t be here and not screw me.” Sam was a little surprised at the determination in her own voice, but she was aching for him again, already. “Baby will be fine. You can call the midwife if you need to, but I don’t intend to get out of this bed until Monday.”_

_Jack looked at her with eyes wide in shock._

_“Don’t you know not to argue with a pregnant woman, Jack O’Neill?”_

_His eyes crinkled and then he smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. Moving too quick for her to anticipate, Jack blew a raspberry on the upper slope of her breast, mouthing, nibbling, tickling, laughter erupting ..._

Wandering fingers across her belly made her squirm and Sam had a moment of dysphoria as she captured Jack’s hand against the flat of her stomach. She held her breath as the disorientation washed over her and Jack nipped at the back of her neck.

“Good dream?” He wondered, trailing kisses and nibbles over her shoulder, his hand turning under hers, embracing her palm, twining fingers.

A cold, hard feeling settled in her stomach under their joined hands. “Yeah, it was.”

“You were giggling,” he observed, his body, his arousal pressing into her back.

Sam craned her neck towards the bedside clock, straining to read the numbers. “What time do you need to leave?”

“Around ten hundred. We’ve got enough time for breakfast and ...” Jack made a suggestion with a press of his hips against her behind.

She ached, the same ache of want and arousal she’d felt in her dream. Need boiled through Sam, a moan erupting unbidden from her lips as she turned her face away, burying it in her pillow.

Something in her response made Jack hesitate. “We can just get up, have breakfast ...”

“No,” Sam said into the pillow, tightening her fingers around his.

As she made no move to turn into him, Jack settled against her back, head sharing her pillow, her hair brushing his nose.

Something in her warned that this was a bad idea, to chase her dream with actually making love was going too far. Making love, there was the problem. _Fuck me_ , she’d asked him last night. Sex and fucking and eating her out and giving head. That was what they were doing. Making love was ... for other people.

_Bad idea_ , her conscience told her as she turned into Jack, hooking her leg over his hip, pulling his hardness tight against her.

_Bad idea_ , it repeated as Jack hooked his arm under her knee, reaching to position himself, sliding into her.

_Bad idea_ , as he slid through her slick folds that were heavy with want, his body fitted into hers, breath hot against her ear, her face pressed into the curve of his shoulder, hiding in case something in her face should betray the fact that she was already missing him, already wanting him back, already knowing that after he was gone she would take a shower and cry for her mistake, for her loss that never could have been.

“Sam, my star,” his words whispered into her hair as she came with a strangled cry and he toppled after, both falling through the atmosphere, emotion and words burnt away leaving them raw and aflame.

 

* * *

 

Jack glanced back towards the house as the taxi turned the corner, leaving her street. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done something wrong, something to hurt her.

Yesterday, she’d been so bright, happy. Flirting, teasing, hungry for him, like he’d been for her. Excited about this turning point in her life, catching him up in her enthusiasm as she always did.

And then ... she’d wanted him rough and it scared him, that she could summon his darkness and he would let his control slip away, because she’d asked him. She’d told him it was what she wanted and, in a moment of weakness, he had let it out. She didn’t know, couldn’t know, what was inside him, what he was capable of.

Was that it? Has she seen the real him finally? Seen it and turned away. Was that why she couldn’t look him in the eye this morning?

Well, he’d known it would happen one day. Sam had what she needed from him and he would fade away, leave her and the child to their future, free from Jack O’Neill and the dark, emptiness that was his soul.

 

* * *

 

_Four weeks later_

He felt heavy. Worn thin. One of his men dead, another injured. Four weeks with no communication, no phone, no internet. Jack didn’t even really have a good reason for being in the communications centre instead of his bunk at 0200. Not one he could admit to himself.

Not that he couldn’t sleep, not yet, not until Zawicki was out of surgery. Not while there was the faintest of hopes that there was news from Sam. Twenty-four hours after he’d left her he was dropping from a helo into Turkey with his team of five. Four weeks ago.

Email, or no email, when he opened his account he would know whether she wanted to ever speak to him again.

Seventeen unread messages. Two from Sam, no, three. He clicked on the most recent one, the subject line read: _Thank You_

_< img=“positive_pregnancy_test.jpg”>_

That was all. And it was all he needed.

 

* * *

 

_Six months later_

“So, are you coming to visit or not? Leave it any longer and you’ll get to cut the cord.”

That made Jack smile, even as he scuffed about in the snow, fingers getting colder by the minute, hat pulled down over his ears, phone tucked under the ear flap. “Tell me it’s warm there.”

“It’s Arizona, it’s always warm here. Well, warmer than Germany.”

His long sigh was a visible puff of white. “I’ll put in for a couple of days.”

“Make it longer,” Sam urged, “I have things I need done around the house to get it ready for her, if that makes you feel more wanted.”

He hesitated. Seeing her again felt like too big a step. It had taken Sam five months of patient emails to get him on the phone with her.

“I still have a spare room, Jack. No expectations.”

Damn, she was close to begging him, he could hear the strain in her voice. “If you need the help ...”

Her sigh of relief was a weighty thing. “I want to see you, the help is a bonus. Drop me an email when you know the dates and flights?”

“Yeah. I’ll put in for it tomorrow. I’ve got something coming up, but after that. Four, five weeks from now?” Jack dug into his jacket pocket finding his penknife, tumbling it over and over as he talked.

“Whatever you can get will be fine, I’ll be on maternity leave from the mid-semester break.” When there was no acknowledgement, Sam added. “It’ll be good to see you. There’s this new Star Trek show that’s started. We can binge it on Netflix.”

_We’ll always have Star Trek._

“I need to get that.”

“What, Netflix? Geez, join the 21st century, O’Neill!” Sam laughed at him and he didn’t care, her laughter made him feel lighter.

“Hey, I’m pretty with it for an old bird. I email, don’t I?”

“That’s so nineties, Jack.” Sam was still laughing and he had to smile.

“And I text!” He was enjoying the self-deprecation as long as it kept Sam amused.

“Not enough,” she replied and then quickly rallied, “But it’s not like you have a choice with being away so much.”

No, not enough. Any more and he would miss her. More than he missed her now, at any rate.

“I might not get confirmation of leave before I go away, so just keep things open for in a month or so.” He was being an ass winding up the call like this, but Sam already knew what he was.

“Alright. Clear skies, Jack.”

“You too. You and the little star.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we come full circle. The Velveteen Rabbit continues the story if you are starting this series with Conception Weekend.


End file.
